Introduction to the Poet:

Ms. Loubna FLAH is born and raised in Casablanca, Morocco. After she got a Bachelor degree in Biochemistry, she decided to pursue her passion for Literature and Humanities. She got a Master’s degree in Literary and Linguistic Studies from Ain Chok Faculty of Letters and Humanities, Casablanca. She is currently a PhD student at Ben M’Sik Faculty of Letters and Humanities. Her area of research pertains to Discourse Analysis, Feminism and Islamism. She worked also as a journalist for the news outlet Moroccoworldnews.com where she published a large number of articles both on politics and economy. She is an EFL teacher and assistant professor in Ben M’Sik Faculty of Letters and Humanities within the PhD program. She has a keen interest in poetry and short story writing. She is constantly astounded at the capacity of poetry to beautify the gloom of grief, to glorify passion and to reinstate the severed bounds of the soul.

Dancing for the Divine

In the fretting of the leaves

In the glow of the falling mist

In the gentle breeze

In the rays, in the eves

In all that exists

There is a glimpse of you

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In the lightness of my step

In the spin, in the twist

In the floating edge

Of the white attire

In all that moves

There is a glimpse of you

In” I “and “me” and “mine ”

There is a trace of you.

Unapologetic Love

Come to me my lover

With the free morning breeze

With the mistral winds that freeze

The branches of the bare trees

Come before youth is over

Come then

With crude hopes and fresh flowers

Exhaling your ambrosial scent

Like a heavenly bliss on earth sent

To revive the happy hours

Calling my name over and over

Come to me my lover

With no pride and no pretensions

Thus flow the brooks to the vast oceans

And the threads yearn for the kites

Come amidst the lonely nights

Come before youth is over.

In the Betweens

Neither I am alive

Nor I am dead

A falling drop

In an endless decline

Nor ahead

Neither behind

A gray thin line

Between darkness and light

I lost the colors

I lost my sight

Like a painter beholding

Her sluggish art

A soulless figure

Amidst walking shadows

With no fortune

And misfortunes

Like a forsaken lover

In the dull afternoons